The Highest Price Paid
by Siren's Bell
Summary: The Princess knew she had to remain on her guard. But it was difficult to do when this man could disarm her with nothing more than a glance. Ganondorf x Zelda.


A balcony overlooked the western half of Hyrule. From this perch, Zelda could almost make out the expanse of desert, the yellow sand that stretched and stretched and pooled into a blue horizon. There were caravans coming from that half of the country. She could feel the apprehension building, listening to the clamoring outside to prepare for their guests. It was hard for her, to allow..._these _people into her home. But her guards had been strictly trained and she would have her personal bodyguard with her. So she had no real reason to worry.

Besides, this was for Hyrule and her defense. It was, after all, her sworn duty to protect her people, even at the cost of her own comfort. The people's needs would always come before her own. After a few moments more, there was a gentle knock on the door. Zelda did not move, but instead cast a glance over her shoulder. Shadows moved, and she could make out the sounds of a hushed conversation. A moment more past before the Sheikah crossed the threshold and came onto the balcony. "They've arrived, Highness." He bowed deeply and stepped back as Zelda turned. Her expression was determined, chiseled.

"Very well. Mind your position, Sheik. Though I would rather you stay out of sight. The fewer who know you are here, the better." He nodded and disappeared almost immediately into a shadow. Zelda opened the door once she was sure her guard was not to be seen and stepped out into the hall. It was chilled, as though the temperature dropped at the very thought of the people who would soon be gracing these stone halls. As she moved, her pace was slow, as though that would slow the arrival of her guests. But soon. She was in the courtyard, waiting for the procession to begin.

There were women and they eyed the princess through purple veils. Zelda felt tiny under their scrutiny. After a moment more, their leader finally emerged. He was tall, muscular, dressed in his tribe's native garb. She had almost expected him to be wearing heavy armor. But the thought was silly. Why would he do that, when they are meant to talk peace? Armor would only denote distrust and that would be the worst foot to start off on. Zelda watched him with an unreadable expression. He approached her, nodding in greeting, but he did not bow. This, Zelda noticed. With a snap of his fingers, two more women appeared, carrying between them a chest.

She opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped when it opened to reveal an assortment of items inlaid with gold. "It is customary among my people to bring a gift when we are subject to the hospitality of another. Please, accept this with my warmest regards." His voice was deep, rich, some how matched the fire red mane he kept tied back. Almost mesmerizing. But Zelda would not allow herself to be distracted.

"We extend the warmest of greetings to you and your people, Lord Ganondorf." Her voice was stiff, clearly rehearsed and she felt incredulous as he regarded her with an amused expression.

"We've traveled far, Princess. Would you allow us a moment to rest before our business begins?"

"Of course, my Lord. My servants will show you all to your quarters."

"Please. I am Ganondorf and I would rather you called me such."

She felt stiff at such informal behavior. "If you would follow me." She turned away, so he could not see her expression. And they did, with such silence, she had almost forgotten they were behind her until the door closed behind them all suddenly. Her servants were lined and at attention, awaiting their orders. Zelda regarded them. "Show them to their quarters. Except for Lord—Ganondorf. I will show him personally."

Zelda felt as though she was going to regret this as she chanced a glance at the massive man at her side. He looked weathered, much older than she expected. Clearly he had lived a long, arduous life. The desert must have been a hard place to survive in. She wondered would her features had been so proud and strong and definitive as his was, if she had ever lived in a place like the desert. Would he even take her seriously? She was so young, almost fragile looking when compared to him.

"Your castle is lovely."

His voice broke her thoughts. It was low now, sounded almost dangerous. She shivered, but her voice was stiff, betraying no emotion. "Thank you. Here." She stopped shy of an elaborate door. She did not think it was a good idea for him to rest just a mere room away from her. But her council thought it almost disrespectful of the man to group him in with the servants. He was, after all, royalty in his homeland. "Please, enjoy your evening. A servant will inform you when dinner is to be served."

"Zelda."

She paused. No one, save Sheik, had ever called her by her name before. She did not like the way this man said it. Not with that voice.

"Yes?"

"Would you give me a tour?"


End file.
